Livy darling, I got your letter, enclosing Jean’s 4s—admirable child, cultivated child, how she is progressing! It is a sour, bleak, windy day, here, with trifling flurries of snow; but I have lain abed all day, reading & smoking, & having a restful & comfortable but rather homesick time. I miss you, & I miss the children & would so unspeakably like to be with you. The deluging rain played smash with us here. We should have had exceptionally good houses here, but for that. But I love you, sweetheart, that I know.